


Beginnings

by j3ssential



Series: Set Ablaze [2]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types
Genre: Bad Parenting, Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Dungeons & Dragons References, Fire, Fire Powers, Hunting, Motherhood, Origin Story, Original Character(s), Original Character-centric, Original Fiction, Survival, Survival Training, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 04:15:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21570682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j3ssential/pseuds/j3ssential
Summary: Sometimes self-sufficiency is a necessity.
Series: Set Ablaze [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1554559
Kudos: 1
Collections: Wildfire





	Beginnings

Aurenwae wasn’t what you would call a typical mother. She wasn’t malicious by any means, or hurtful by choice; she simply had other, more important things on her mind. She never taught Wildfire to speak, not really; she simply would speak out loud to her while in the midst of a particular difficult experiment, the way she might a lamp, or a chair. She was infinitely startled one day when the girl spoke back. And once the girl was able to move herself about, she might have been removed from her mother’s world entirely – she only asked questions to things that didn’t move from where she had put them.  
Wildfire knew this, even from a very young age. She never truly resented it; this is just the way things were. You might as well curse the sky for being blue or the river for running down the mountain. Still, as she grew, things did change from time to time, and they occasionally took some getting used to. This time, her mother was casting about for a new tack on an experiment. This was usually the best time to approach her, but since Wildfire had stopped crying for attention, her mother rarely gave it to her. She watched her mother silently as she talked to herself.  
“I am hungry.”  
Aurenwae blinked, seemingly realizing there was another person in the room for the first time, then focused on her daughter. “So eat.” Her too-thin frame, a testament of her own dismissal of this basic bodily function, hunched back over the combination of ingredients she was examining, as though the matter had been resolved.  
Wildfire shifted uncomfortably, knowing instinctively that she was going about this wrong somehow. “There is no food.”  
Aurenwae frowned, turned, truly distracted from her work now. Irritation creased her sharp features, her golden skin stained with alchemical reagents. “So go get some.”  
So Wildfire headed out into the wilderness, hunger and pure stubbornness driving her for days, As small as she was, she had no hope of outrunning even the slowest of creatures, so she simply walked them down. From time to time she would manage a bolt of fire before the animal would dart off, but unless it was something very small, like a rabbit or vole, she would simply have to continue after it until, exhausted by its efforts, she could simply walk up and place her hands on its throat, burning it alive and gasping.  
Things continued in this simple way for a long time. Hunters did not often stray this close to the ruined city, being a largely superstitious lot, so game was plentiful and sometimes, entirely unafraid of her. She had no concept of how to properly cook or dress meat, so her meals would often be simple blackened hunks of whatever she had managed to catch, but she had never known the difference, so it bothered her little. Aurenwae would eat anything placed near enough to her, and only if she was on the verge of passing out, so deep in her work was she at all times, so unconcerned with simple material matters like sustenance. Wildfire would watch her mother’s gaunt frame, bent over some concoction, or writing feverishly on the walls or in a book, the way someone might watch the sky. This was her small world. And she was restless.


End file.
